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Dean had come to the bayou because there had been ten suspect disappearances in as many weeks. All of the people were locals who knew the bayou like the back of their hand, and none of them were depressed or wanted to leave town. The police didn't have any suspects or even theories on the rash of disappearances. With all the alligators and other predators in the swamp, not finding a body was normal when someone went missing, but it made Dean's investigation a lot more difficult. No bodies meant that there weren't any remains to study and analyze for the cause of death, and he couldn't look to see if there were any tell tale signs of supernatural foul play on the bodies. He was going into the situation blind, and he didn't like not knowing what type of creature he was facing.
He rented an airboat to navigate the waterways, and headed to the general geographic area that all the victims were in when they were last seen. He navigated around the pier, then began searching the area, trying to search the bayou in quadrants. Dean kept his eyes peeled for any clues regarding supernatural activity in the swamp. As he went deeper into the marsh, he noticed the Spanish moss was getting thicker, and the modern noises were becoming more and more muffled until they were nonexistent. Dean shivered as a cold chill went up his spine, but he resolutely pushed forward. If there was a monster in the bayou, it was his job to flush it out and kill it.
The thing about the quiet was that it freed his mind wander, and of course it would wander to his dad and brother, a sore topic for Dean since both of them had abandoned him. Sam had left to go to college, and John obviously didn't want Dean to drag him down anymore. Neither of them answered the phone when he called, so the writing was on the wall- he was alone and on his own in every context of the phrase.
Dean shook his head and focused on the landscape. The area he had steered his airboat into looked primeval, like it hadn't been disturbed in a thousand years. The Spanish moss was thick, hanging off of trees that were old and gnarled looking. The trees were thick in this area, thick enough that only filtered sunlight broke through their canopy. It was creepy, and it brought Dean's already heightened senses to a sharp point, his body tense and ready for battle.
As the boat sped along, Dean spotted a ramshackle shack amid the trees. It looked as if there was a small islet that the shack was built on. He steered his boat closer, keeping an eye out for anything that seemed even slightly hinky. Knowing people were going missing and then finding a shack in the middle of nowhere seemed like too big of a coincidence for Dean to ignore, so he was going to investigate it, but he had to keep himself safe if he was going to be able to save anyone else.
Dean felt sweat drip down his back as he contemplated the best way to go about introducing himself and entering the shack. Playing the lost tourist seemed to be the best option. He straightened his posture as he climbed out of the boat. He took a deep breath and started to head for the shack. He could do this. He could enter the creature's lair and try to get a feel for what it was. Then, he would be able to leave after he got the information he needed. The monster would allow him to leave after checking out his lair so he could research what it was, get the weapons he needed to kill it, and then he'd come back and kill it. No sweat.
Even as Dean knew his plan had a 1% chance of working, he walked up to the doorless entry area and knocked on the wood casing. After a minute, a man appeared and pulled the piece of fabric that was acting as the door to the side. “Can I help you?” the man asked in a deep voice, the timber sending shivers down Dean's spine.
Dean was struck speechless. The man in front of him embodied all of his male fantasies in one impressive, drool worthy form. He was tall, probably close to seven foot, and very muscular. He looked like he could break Dean in half without even trying. He was shirtless in this heat, and Dean could see the muscle definition in his six pack. Dean licked his lips, and just as he got his brain back on track, he noticed the scars on the man's body. They were faint, but he had a myriad of scars all over his torso. Dean whimpered. This man was the embodiment of every dream he ever had brought to life, and he didn’t have to hide his attraction since neither his dad nor his brother was around. He finally got a hold of his wayward libido and smiled embarrassedly at the man, saying, “I think I took a wrong turn in my airboat, and I am hopelessly turned around and lost. Can you direct me to the nearest area of civilization?”
The man smiled and Dean about swooned. His blue eyes seemed to pierce Dean's soul as he stared at him, into him. “I can help you get back, but it's about to storm. Why don't you come in? I've got jambalaya cooking on the stove, and hopefully the storm will pass by the time we're done eating. I'm Dan,” the man said.
“Dean,” Dean replied. He felt a raindrop hit his arm, quickly followed by another and another. Dean looked around, confused. He hadn't noticed the sky getting dark with storm clouds before Dan said something and the first raindrop came down and hit him. Dean stepped inside the shack out of the rain, and was surprised by what he saw inside. There was a full kitchen with an electric stove, small refrigerator and a handful of lower cabinets. The cabinets were beat up and plain wood, but they looked sturdy. The kitchen was open to a living area. There was a mission style sofa that looked like it had been hand made, with a fur covered cushion to sit on. On the back side of the room there were two doorways which he assumed were for a bathroom and a bedroom. The shack had a moss floor, but Dean figured any type of wood floor would rot in this environment.
Dean could smell the jambalaya now that he was inside the shack, and he said, “The jambalaya smells great.” His stomach growled, as if on cue.
Dan laughed as Dean blushed. “Why don't you wash up? The bathroom is the door on the left. By the time you're finished, the food will be ready.”
Dean nodded his head in agreement, and walked into the bathroom. There was a small shower stall, a pedestal sink, and a toilet. He washed his hands then quickly and efficiently searched the medicine cabinet. The medicine cabinet held aspirin, band aids and Neosporin along with all of Dan’s grooming necessities. Nothing that would raise any red flags.
As Dean exited the bathroom, Dan was turning off the stove. He pulled two bowls out of a cabinet and spooned the jambalaya into the bowls, setting them on the rustic table/center island that Dean had failed to notice earlier. Dean shook his head. How could he miss seeing the center island? Before he could dwell on the fact that something about the shack was off, Dan said, “Lunch is served,” distracting Dean from his thoughts.
Dean chose which stool he wanted to sit on, then both men sat down to eat. Again, Dean chose which bowl of jambalaya he wanted to eat, and Dean took his time blowing on the first bite as he surreptitiously watched Dan eat a bite of the food. After Dan ate the food without hesitation, Dean felt comfortable trying some himself. “Man, is this good,” Dean said as took the first bite.
“Thanks. It will be better this evening, after the flavors meld together for a little while longer,” Dan responded.
“I don't think it can get any better,” Dean enthused. The men both ate their full bowls, Dean moaning as he took every bite, not even realizing he was doing so. As he was scraping the bowl clean, making sure he ate every morsel of deliciousness, he started to feel woozy. “What's happening?” he slurred as he tried to stand up to get in a defensive position.
The last thing Dean saw was Dan smiling at him as he lost consciousness.
~*~
When Dean came to, he was laying on a bed while Dan laid beside him, wiping his forehead with cool water. “Oh, good. You're finally awake,” Dan said as Dean moaned and fluttered his eyelashes, starting to turn his body to attempt to get up and out of bed. Dan lightly pushed down Dean's shoulders as he said, “Stay still. You've been sick and out of it for three days. You were even having hallucinations because your fever was so high. Now that your fever broke, and you're finally conscious and appear lucid, I'll get some broth for you to drink. Let’s see if you can keep that down, and then we can move on to something more substantial.” Dan rolled off the bed and stood up, and he walked out of the bedroom, presumably to the kitchen.
Dean took stock of his body, and he realized his whole body felt sweaty with the gross, sticky sweat that you have when you are sick and feverish. He raised his arms and realized his whole body felt as weak as a newborn. His muscles were shaking just trying to raise his arms. Even the most minor of movements took a Herculean effort. With how weak he was, he felt like he had been sick for longer than three days.
As he laid there trying to conserve his strength, he tried to remember why he was with Dan and what he was doing before he got sick, but his mind kept drawing a blank. His mind was fuzzy, and he couldn't remember anything prior to when he woke up. He couldn't remember how he knew Dan, or even how they had met. He just knew that he was with Dan, and that Dan had taken care of him while he was ill. He felt thankful that Dan was there to take care of him and nurse him through his sickness. If he had been alone, he doubted he would have survived.
Dan came back to the bedroom with a bowl of broth. He sat down next to Dean on the bed, and he placed the bowl on the nightstand. Dean frowned because he was sure there wasn't a nightstand there a moment ago. Dean knew he hadn't noticed it until Dan set the bowl on it. Dan broke Dean's train of thought when he effortlessly lifted Dean into his lap. Dean was cradled in Dan's arms as if he was a toddler, and he was positioned so he was slightly reclined so he could easily be fed the broth.
Dean's mind reverted back to the nightstand. He was fixated on the sudden appearance of it. He knew something was off about it, even though he couldn't put his finger on it. It was old and beat up, and looked like it might fall apart any minute. Nothing made it stand out, but Dean could feel there was something wrong, something he had just.. Dan distracted Dean from his fixation on the nightstand by placing a spoonful of broth against his lips. As Dean sipped the broth, his mind tried to focus, to figure out why he was with Dan, to figure out the nightstand issue, but his brain couldn't hold on to a thought. After Dean had finished drinking the whole bowl of broth, Dan laid Dean down in the bed, and he curled up alongside him.
Dean started to fall asleep right away as his body was still exhausted. He was halfway between wakefulness and sleep, when he felt Dan begin stroking his arms and back. He pressed into the strokes, reveling in the feel of someone touching him lovingly. He was drifting into sleep's embrace when he felt Dan's hands going lower, past his waistline, skimming his hips until Dan's hands were kneading his buttocks. At that moment, Dean suddenly realized he was naked and so was Dan. Had he been naked this whole time, and he hadn't been consciously aware of that fact until this very moment? He was sure that was something he would have noticed.
He made a noise of protest as he started to struggle in Dan's arms. Although Dean couldn't say whether he was protesting their nakedness, Dan's fondling his ass, or the knowledge that Dan's current behavior clearly stated that he intended to go a lot farther than just fondling. In the end it didn't matter as Dan kissed him, his lips silencing Dean's protests as his arms wrapped around Dean and subdued his struggles.
Dean continued to try to struggle for a moment, but Dan knew how to kiss, and Dean needed the intimacy, the connection, with another being. He had been missing that connection ever since his family left him. He opened himself up to the kiss, and was swept up by the pleasurable zings Dan was eliciting from his body. Dean was lost in the kiss, his hands gripping Dan's hair as Dan was kneading his globes and rubbing against his furl. Delectable sparks were flying from his furl up his spine, and Dean was enjoying the sensations from his furl being rubbed when he felt a slick digit breach his hole. He tried to pull back from the kiss, to twist away from Dan so he could stop the intrusion, but Dan followed his movements, not letting Dean break their lips apart.
Dean struggled to get out of Dan's grasp, to break their connection, to say no, he didn't want this, but he was denied the opportunity. The lips against his didn't stop their assault, and slowly Dean forgot about his objection to being breached as his brain was overwhelmed with lust. He felt the digit in his ass going deeper and thickening inside of him, but he ignored the discomfort of having his channel breached for the first time as Dan’s lips drew him deeper into Dan's snare. Dan's cock began to thrust along his own, and the glorious friction along his cock and the pleasure from that motion took precedence in his mind.
As another slender digit joined the first inside his channel, Dean’s brain kicked in, warning Dean that it wasn't a finger or even a cock inside of him. That whatever was inside of him was wiggling around, too bendy to be fingers, and way too deep to be anything in the normal realm of human anatomy. Dean was finally able to break their kiss, and as Dan moved his lips to suck marks into the side of Dean's neck, Dean managed to look down. His brain couldn't keep up with what he was seeing. Hundreds of tentacles swarmed around him. What he thought were fingers were tentacles breaching his hole and entering his body.
As Dean began to struggle against the creature he had been consentually frotting with until a minute ago, tentacles shot out and wrapped around his arm and legs, pinning them down. His arms and legs were spread apart as far as they could go, and Dan loomed over him as one of his thicker tentacles joined the first two inside of Dean. They were writhing back and forth in a mimicry of fucking into him.
Dean tried to yell for help, and another tentacle entered his mouth, gagging him and secreting a sweet substance into his mouth that Dean either had to swallow or choke on. As Dean swallowed the substance, he looked at Dan, and took in the changes that he had been unaware of until that moment. Dan had morphed into a half-man half-tentacle monster with his upper body still being in the form that Dean remembered, but his lower half was hundreds of writhing tentacles instead of a pair of legs. And all of those tentacles were focused on Dean.
“Do not fight Dean,” Dan said as he continued to kiss Dean's neck, moving slowly down to his shoulders. Dean tried to yell, but it came out as a whimper as Dan lightly bit his shoulders. Although Dean was against fornicating with Dan, Dan's lips had the power to turn Dean on, and he could feel his resolve waning as the lips continued to explore his body. After Dan laved and nipped at Dean’s pebbled buds for a while, he lifted his head and looked into Dean's eyes. “I have claimed you, and now you are mine. You couldn't have entered this area, seen my hut, if you weren't compatible with me and open to being claimed. You've eaten my blood, and suckled my nectar from the source. You’ve drank my saliva, and now your body is absorbing the mating hormones from my sex organs. Soon you will be my perfect mate, and you will be able to carry our young.”
Dean tried to cry out, to voice his disagreement and to ask when he did those things, but only muffled sounds escaped around the tentacle in his mouth. Dan must have known what he was trying to say, and he answered, “While you washed your hands, I added my blood to the jambalaya. That you thought it was delicious was another sign that you were compatible and would accept being my mate. That you were compatible with me and open to being claimed. Your flu was your body starting to go through the changes from ingesting and accepting my blood. I mixed some of my saliva with the broth. You just swallowed my nectar, and my sex organs are inside you," he said as the tentacles gave a hard thrust. Dean moaned with pleasure despite himself.
With that, Dan went back to suckling on Dean's nipples as his sex organs began thrusting into Dean in earnest. Dean couldn't help moaning as a fourth tentacle entered him whose only job seemed to be to continuously press against Dean's prostate. Two other tentacles wrapped around his cock, loosening and tightening in a play on a hand job. Another tentacle began secreting gel on the nipple that Dan wasn't suckling with his mouth, and the gel made it ultra-sensitive. The tentacle then slid all around the areola flicking the nipple causing Dean to arch his back into the sensation. Dean was lost to the plethora of pleasurable impulses that were overwhelming his cortex.
All of Dan's tentacles were writhing in ecstasy. The tentacles inside Dean were squirting his walls with mating hormones, and with every squirt all of the tentacles would writhe on and around Dean. Dean could feel his body getting closer and closer to his orgasm as the tentacles continued to thrust inside of him and fill his channel with mating hormones. Dan continued to nip at his neck and chest, while his fingers twisted his nipples. The pleasurable sensations bombarded him, and Dean's muscles locked up as he came. Dan's mouth surrounded Dean’s cock to catch all the cum that was shooting out of it, and Dean thrust into the wet heat surrounding his cock.
Dean was still breathing hard, coming down from his intense orgasm, when Dan informed him, “I have swallowed your saliva and cum, and my skin has absorbed your sweat. We are now bound together for eternity, and no one can rip us asunder. Sleep now. We will be mating continuously for the next several months, and you'll need to keep up your strength.” Dan’s hand stroked Dean's hair, and Dean closed his eyes and let oblivion take him.
~*~
When he woke up, he was hard and already close to the edge. He looked down and saw his channel was stretched wide enough to fit six tentacles inside of it. They were thrusting inside of him, hitting his prostate with every pass. All of the other tentacles were stroking him, covering his skin in a sheen of gel that ramped up his pleasure receptors. The slightest brush from a tentacle against his skin would bring spasms of pleasure throughout Dean's body. He couldn't stop moaning and twitching as pleasure assaulted him from every angle. None of the tentacles were needed to hold his limbs captive because Dean was way past fighting being claimed. He was lost to the ecstasy flooding his body as his mate tormented him in the most delicious manner.
Dean lost all track of his surroundings. All he knew was the pleasure his mate gave him. He was held up at a forty-five degree angle by the large tentacles as the sex organ tentacles fucked him, their numbers increasing until he could fit twenty tentacles comfortably inside him. All of his mate's other tentacles found every one of his sensitive areas and stimulated them until Dean was insensate with pleasure. Dan kissed Dean passionately, his tongue exploring Dean's mouth thoroughly as he ran his hands through Dean’s hair, murmuring words of love and devotion. Slowly, the words penetrated Dean's psyche, and he slowly came to accept and believe them.
When he was finally able to come down from the sexual high he had been encased in, his eyes focused on his mate. Dan smiled gently at him, his tentacles holding him gently, as his hands rubbed up and down Dean's arms. He kissed Dean on the forehead and asked, “How do you feel?”
Dean thought for a second and said, “I feel happy. Content. Loved.”
The Danava smiled. Its process turning Dean into his mate was completed. Dean would not remember his human family, and would only know his mate and their children. He couldn't wait until Dean's belly was protruding with their first progeny. His lips sought out Dean's for a tender kiss before his tendrils brought their bodies close together. His thick sex tentacle rubbed his mate's stubby sex rod, making his mate moan and throw his head back. As he started another round of mating frenzy, he figured keeping his mate delirious on sexual endorphins for a couple more years was the best and most enticing plan of all.